Noman

by William Nicholson

  "What about the Jahan of Jahans?"

  "Do I have to tell you?"

  "Whoa, Princess! You bored with it already?"

  "How's it feel being the spiker warlord, pretty boy?"

  "Well, I'll tell you," said the Wildman. "Winning is good. Coming out on top of everyone else is good."

  "You never came out on top of me."

  "But after, when the winning's done, that's when I start to itch."

  "Why's that?"

  "Don't ask me, Princess. I know what I feel. I don't need to know why."

  "I'll tell you why." She shook back her long black hair and touched his golden cheek with the fingers of one hand. "Because you're young."

  "Could be."

  "And me, I'm young, too. Too young for tomorrow to be the same as today."

  "That's right, Princess."

  "I still want to go places I've never been. I still want to do things I've never done. I want to live free as long as I can. There'll be time enough for settling down later. But when that day comes, I want to be sure to have some memories to light my fire."

  The Wildman gazed on her with admiration.

  "You just said it all, Princess."

  When Seeker and Morning Star reached the city of Radiance, the streets were empty. It was like Radiance in the old days of the priests. They turned into the street that led to the temple square. At the far end they saw a crowd of people. The crowd was strangely silent.

  "What are they doing?"

  "Waiting for something." Morning Star could read their colors, even at this distance. "They're excited."

  The closer they got, the bigger they saw the crowd to be. As they entered the square itself, they found they were faced by a tight-packed throng that filled the arcaded space to overflowing. And all of them, men, women, and children, were gazing towards them in utter silence.

  A fanfare sounded: three rising notes from a horn. At once a great cheer burst forth. The people smiled and waved and cheered, moving back as they did so, opening up a broad path that ran across the square to the lakeside. Seeker and Morning Star blushed the same red at the same time.

  "It's for us!"

  They set off across the square, down a path strewn with fresh flowers, nodding and smiling for the cheering people as they went. At the far end, side by side on two raised chairs, sat Caressa and the Wildman. Behind them, standing on two barges rocking gently on the calm waters of the lake, a chorus of men and women dressed in white robes broke into song.

  "Our saviour! Our saviour!

  Our thanks we gladly give!

  Return to us! Return to us!

  Through you alone we live!"

  It was the old choir of Radiance. Seeker and Morning Star recognized the song. Just as before, a high soprano voice now rang out above the rest.

  "Receive our tribu-u-ute!"

  Morning Star whispered to Seeker.

  "They don't know any other tunes."

  The cheering now broke out again as they came to a stop at the platform. Caressa greeted them with a grin.

  "How's this for a party?"

  The Wildman jumped up and cried to the crowd.

  "Let's feast!"

  Bands of men came streaming out of the arcades carrying tables and lanterns, and within a short time, as the light faded in the sky, the square was transformed into an open-air dining hall. A large fire was laid and lit. Cooks came filing into the square with pots of stew and baskets of cornbread. Flagons of wine were lined up on every table. Musicians took the place of the choir on the barges. As music played over the lake, the people settled down to party.

  Seeker and Morning Star, the guests of honor, were seated at the raised table with the Wildman and Caressa. Here too came Seeker's mother and father, and Morning Star's mother and father. Sabin Jahan was at the high table, as was Shab, to Morning Star's amusement. His old resentments seemed to have melted away, and he was in excellent humor.

  "That Joy Boy talked a lot of sense," he confided to Morning Star. "No fun being miserable. So now I just laugh."

  And laugh he did, at everything.

  Three small figures emerged from the milling crowd, their faces greasy with food.

  "Where did you go, lady? You never said good-bye."

  It was Libbet and Burny and Deedy.

  "That's because I knew I was coming back."

  "Should have said good-bye," said Burny reproachfully. "Deedy cried. She's a boggy baby."

  "Am not!" said Deedy, pinching Burny's leg. "Yow! Deedy pinched me!"

  He ran into the arms of Morning Star's mother, Mercy.

  "I've been looking after them," said Mercy, meeting Morning Star's surprised look. "They stay with us now."

  "And go to the new school," said Arkaty.

  "I hate school!" said Burny. "You have to sit down. You have to sit down for hours and hours!"

  Morning Star thanked her mother with her eyes, knowing the children would not have thought to thank her themselves.

  "We reckoned you'd not be staying with us for long," said Arkaty. "There's others need you more than us."

  "But I'll always come back, Papa."

  "As to coming back," he said with a smile, "let that fall as it may."

  "See, Papa." She took out of her pocket the braid of lamb's wool he had given her long ago. "I don't forget."

  Seeker was hearing from his father about the school he had recently started in the city.

  "It's much like the old school," he said, "except that I'm not as young as I was. Though here's a strange thing." He threw his son a wry look. "The children never seem to grow any older."

  "And has Gift come with you, Father, to help look after the school?"

  "Yes, he has. I'm glad you remember old Gift. He doesn't say much, but the school wouldn't be the same without him."

  Caressa was talking quietly with Sabin, who listened and nodded his head. The Wildman walked round the table to place himself between Seeker and Morning Star. His arms round each of them, he squatted down and spoke to them in a low voice.

  "No one knows this yet," he said. "Caressa and I are going away. At first light."

  "Where are you going?" said Seeker.

  "Downriver on the Lazy Lady. Far away. Farther than I've ever been before."

  "The river doesn't go that far."

  "Who said we stop where the river ends?"

  He saw the look on Seeker's face when he said that, and he grinned. Before either of them could reply, Caressa signalled to the Wildman that she was ready. He rose and joined her. It had all been planned.

  Caressa jumped up to stand on the high table, her silver-handled whip in her hand. The Wildman beat on the tabletop with his fists, and called for silence.

  "You tell them, Princess!"

  The voices and laughter in the square faded to an expectant hush. All looked up at Caressa, beautiful in the firelight.

  "My fellow Orlans!" she cried. "I call you all to witness."

  She raised the whip high for all to see.

  "I have been proud to lead the Orlan nation. We are now at peace, and my work is done. I hand the whip of the Orlans to Sabin, son of Amroth."

  Sabin jumped up onto the table beside her. Caressa gave him the whip. He took it and held it up high.

  "I am Sabin!" he called out. "Jahan of Jahans!"

  For a moment there was a stunned silence. Then the Orlans in the crowd began to beat out their approval. They were not wearing armor or carrying swords, so they beat with their mugs on the tables and their boots on the flagstones. Sabin looked from face to cheering face, and he heard the thundering beat, and he reached out his arms as if to embrace them all.

  The Wildman then joined him on the high table.

  "If she goes," he cried, pointing at Caressa, "I go!"

  "No!" the spikers shouted back. "Don't go!"

  "You want me to stay?"

  "Stay! Stay!" they cried.

  "Heya! Do you lo-o-ove me?"

  "Wildman! Wildman! Wildman!"
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  "Too bad! I'm going!"

  He raised his arms high above his head and laughed a great laugh.

  "But I'll be back!"

  He was so fine, so glorious, so free. What could they do but laugh with him?

  Then Shab was up on the high table.

  "Spikers!" he cried. "When did we ever have a chance like this before? This is our city! We can live well here! Who needs a warlord? We can rule ourselves!"

  The Wildman threw an arm round Shab, and pointing at him with his other hand, he offered him to the throng.

  "Heya for Shab! Shab the magnificent!"

  And Shab put his arms round the Wildman in his turn, and he laughed and laughed.

  Later in that long night, Seeker and Morning Star climbed to the top of the temple rock and stood there by the new Garden, looking out over the city and the lake.

  "You want to go with them, Star?"

  "I don't know. I think maybe I do. Though I don't know where."

  Seeker heard the distant call of seagulls and caught the faint tang of salt on the wind.

  "To other lands."

  "You know the way?"

  "You go to the farthest place you know. And then you keep on going."

  "Oh, well then," said Morning Star, "I'll come."

  They sailed at dawn. They meant to slip away unnoticed, but all down the riverbanks there were people standing, waving, sending them on their way. They passed the fields of sunflowers, now tended once more, the great amber heads turning to greet the rising sun. They passed the corn plantations, where the cobs were fattening on the stalks. They glided silently by the shanties of Spikertown, empty now that the spikers had moved into the city. They passed the General Store, and the old man on the porch raised his cap in salute, and they saluted back. They passed the jetty where Morning Star had stood and waited for the riverboat to Anacrea, back in the days when all she had wanted in life was to become a Noble Warrior. And so they sailed down the bends of the ever-widening river until they came in sight of the sea. It was evening now, and the water was still. There where once the island of Anacrea had stood, capped by the castle-monastery of the Nom, was an unbroken sheet of trembling gold, reflecting the light from the western sky.

  They moored in the river mouth for the night. As the sun rose the next day, they set sail for the open sea, and other lands.